On the southern shores of the Immurrian sea, under the shadows of the gleaming towered estates of Estermonian nobles, they younglings of those too concerned with wealth and stature played. Children, dressed in dyed corundum silks, splashed and laughed in the cold waters of the Immurrian as it lapped against their bare feet.

            “Do it!” A chorus of children shouted. “Come on Maz, show us what you can do!”

            A long-haired youth in his eleventh year with pale skin and bright eyes the color of the cloudless sky, grinned openly as the children of the noble houses of Estermont gathered around him like eager moths to an open flame. With a flair for the dramatic, Maz lifted his arms to quiet the cheering offspring now surrounding him, forcing his back to the sea.

            A deep breath, inhale…. exhale…. inhale…. exhale…. push and pull…push and pull.
Maz began to wave his arms up and down, over and over and then, step by step, with all eyes upon him, he turned and stepped into the sea.

            The children cheered wildly as the sea separated from Maz’s feet and began to coalesce, globule after globule underneath his hands.

            “Squid dance!” A heavyset child with a shaved head and muddy silks shouted.

            Maz balled his fists, raised his arms to the sky and when he knew all the attention was his, he plunged his hands deep into the orbs of sea water and with a quick inhale of breath he pushed the water up to his wrists, his elbows and finally a thick layer of cerulean blue covered the entire length of his arms.

            Some children cheered at the sight while others gasped as they had never seen anything like they were beholding. Only in the stories recited to them by their milk-mothers and the estate guards that roamed the halls of their fathers had they ever heard of powers beyond sword, spear and shield. They were nothing more than stories of enigmatic magi, of battles won and demons tamed but now, one of their own had become, what several drunken guardsmen had referred to as Void-touched.

Others still clamored for Maz to perform the squid dance and Maz was happy to oblige them. He enjoyed the attention his new abilities afforded him. He couldn’t explain their sudden appearance or how he was able to control the waters around him or even the whispers he heard in the night, but he didn’t care. He knew most of the children squealing in delight around him would have ran to their milk-mothers or to their fathers’ guardsmen begging to be taken to Blind Mary, the apothecary who lived deep in the Tylosian woods, in hopes for a cure for what they believed would have been an affliction of the mind. Not Maz Durrey. He had dreams of the Citadel of Anuar’Bashal; of living amongst the clouds of the floating city and walking the same magical lanes as apprentices, magi and magisters.

            The sudden hoots and hollers brought a wide, mischievous grin to Maz’s genial face and the screams only intensified as the sea-water covering Maz’s arms began to writhe and suddenly separated in a splash of aquatic power as Maz Durrey’s two arms of water became six. 

            The shouts of enchanted, tiny voices echoed up and down the beach reaching all the way to the noble estates of Estermont where she, dressed in thick leathers and a long black cloak trimmed in vibrant crimson thread, walked along the terrace surrounded by gardens of wildflowers and an opulent pool once still, serene and refreshingly blue now stained red where the waters washed against the gashes in a young man’s chest. “No more talking for you,” she said at the Estermonian lying face down in the pool. “I’m trying to watch.” 

            The children giggled, especially the young ones as they shouted and squealed and called Maz a “funny squid!” He could barely contain his own mirth as he puffed up his cheeks and twirled his six watery arms around his body like a cephalopod searching for tiny prey. 

            The show lasted for nearly an hour until, like all children, they grew tired of Maz’s antics. Slowly, they began to disperse. Some of them wandered back to their estates to gorge themselves on sweet lemon cakes drenched in honey while the older children, pushed by a rotund boy with a shaved head, made bets on who could swim to the center of Lake Tylos.

            “Wait! I’ll come too!” Maz shouted as the shaven head boy led his troupe away from the beach.

            “You can’t come, Maz,” he shouted back. “It wouldn’t be fair with…how you are. We’ll play tomorrow!”

            “But…. But….”

            And then he was alone, devoid and dejected like a used-up toy tossed aside. The water he had commanded returned to the sea in small rivulets until his arms were normal again. 

            “That,” she said with a rhythmic cadence, sweet and tranquil yet laced with an aggressiveness that sent the hairs on the back of Maz’s neck, wet as they were, to stand on edge. “was quite a display.”

            Maz twisted and saw her then, the figure in the water. She was draped in black leathers that hugged her body like a second skin. Vibrant crimson sashes crisscrossed her waist to her hips where the slightest glint of metals could be seen peeking out from underneath. She wore a dark hood that covered her eyes but her mouth, twisted in a sardonic grin, was easily visible, and when she moved, her cloak, as dark as midnight, flared out behind her giving her the image of a demon born of the deepest parts of the Void.

            “My, my,” she purred the words while sniffing the air around Maz and licking her lips with the tip of her tongue. “You’re even more scrumptious up close.”

            “You…you don’t belong here,” Maz stammered as he took several steps back nearly falling into the sea as the water pushed against his legs. “This…is for noble families…. You…. You should leave…”

            “What do they call you?” She asked with a smile that reminded Maz of the stories his milk-mother told him of the vile creatures that stalked the Void where the Magisters would roam the endless seas of the planes between worlds to tame beasts both lesser and greater to prove their power. This woman, if she were a beast of the Void, would not be tamed. “Well? Your name, boy?”

            “Ma…M…Maz Durrey,” he managed to finally spit out. But, the mere sound of his name, the reminder of who he was, what he could do and who his family was gave the terrified Estermonian child a pulse of courage as he continued to talk. “Maz Durrey, only son of Zya and Casius Durrey of House Durrey Seventeenth Noble Line of Estermont and eighty-eighth in line for the Estermonian Council. And you don’t belong here.”

            Her smile, once twisted and sardonic, shadowed under her hood, fell grim. “I am Jhavin the Black. To know my name is to fear my name. You will witness my blades for I will sit atop the Black Throne built upon a kingdom of blood to appease our Mother.”

            Whatever courage Maz had built on the sound of his name had suddenly vanished. His breath quickened as beads of nervous sweat ran down the back of his neck. He wanted to run to the safety of his father’s estate, to hide behind the blades that swore fealty to his name. To his milk-mother who cradled him and fed him and kept him warm and safe. Looking beyond the woman, he could see his home, the estate of the Durrey House but he would never make it. Behind him, the vast Immurrian sea spread out like a rolling swell of death. Move the water! His voice screamed in his mind. But how far would it carry him? The powers to bend the water to his will often left him exhausted, sometimes barely able to crawl back to his home. The children he had entertained earlier were long gone and his voice wouldn’t carry to anyone that could hear him.

            The smile that had played upon Jhavin’s lips was gone replaced with an aphotic darkness as she slid two dark-steel daggers from the sash on her waist. Again, she repeated herself as she stepped closer, slowly, but with a deadly confidence. “To sit upon the Black Throne built upon a kingdom of blood to appease our Mother. I take no pleasure in your demise Maz Durrey for you are only a child but, I will have no competition.”

            “You…you don’t belong here!” Maz screamed stumbling into the sea. His corundum silks soaked with salty sea water weighed him down. His mind screamed at him again and again. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Move the water! But, nothing came. The water refused his call as fear, primal and abhorrent overwhelmed his young body. “The gu...ards!” He stammered. “They’ll come for me!”

            With an arm outstretched and the keen edge of a dagger pointed towards Maz’s throat, Jhavin whispered. “No one is coming for you, Maz Durrey, only son of Zya and Casius Durrey. I made sure of that.”

Next Chapter: An Offer Made